


Land of Disks and Peptides

by A Homestuck Dad (NachoManRandyRavage)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Death of the Author, Fluff, The Homestuck Epilogues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 04:02:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoManRandyRavage/pseuds/A%20Homestuck%20Dad





	Land of Disks and Peptides

> Get up. 

You can't get up any more. You're dead. That's how these things go. You're more than dead John, you're erased. 

> Get up. 

I don't know how you think you can get up after your chest being used as a target for a poison chrub tooth. The fact that you had enough spunk in you to explore what a black-rom would be like with that troll was really something else. You're lucky I let you have that. But I'm sorry John, if you are in a story, there will always be the possibility of holes in the plot. That's the problem with the ability to rewrite canon. You are one walking plot hole. 

> Kill the author and get up. 

Wai...

You shake your head. the last thing you remember is trying to tell someone something that was important. But now all that seems distant right now. Like a shot of funny gas at the dentist.

> Recall that it was maybe the 2nd most important thing you've done since you decided to leave the house. 

Oh Right. Squeezing the...sleep?...out of your eyes you prop yourself up on your elbows and look around. The landscape is full of streams of flowing liquids glistening in reds, tans and yellows. It's as if a pumpkin spice steeped fall got reduced to its alchemical essence. The smell in the air is of heavy chemical musks.

> Get up. 

Unsteadily at first you pull yourself to standing. Your recent departure from the land of the canonical living is the primary reason for the unsound rise, but the fact that you're on a slowy rotating platform isn't helping matters. From this vatage poit you can see that while this place is very locally-interesting, it is also very...samey...for miles around. Globally boring.

> Walk. 

No wait, this is stupid. One direction is as good as another. Besides, weren't you just dead? But there really is nothing else to do. Leaping from one laziy rotating platform to another seperated by ruddy rivers seems like the only reasonable way to pass the time. The steady plod of left-foot-right-foot help you process. Lord English, Vriska, and not last of all the big feast of meat that started this train wreck. It goes on, this walking-processing. A slow unwinding of the previous days, weeks, months and sometimes years. Your mind and feet wa/onder. 

Finally you approach a plate of stable ground. Hopskipping it's brilliant yellow river you're thankful to hit steady ground and take this oppertunity to lie back down. You're not tired per-sae but just done. staring up at the fatureless white sky takes you back, leaving you slightly choked up.

> Embrase Dad. 

What? There he is. Looking down at you with a warm smile and offering a hand.

> No seriously. Hug the shit out of dad. 
    
    
    Dad: it's good to see you son.
    John: You too.
    John:
    John:
    John: So... uhh... where are we?
    Dad: I don't have a good answer for you son.
    John: I didn't think so.
    Dad: So did you do it?  THe thing what with all the fighting and the battles and the jail breaks and the chess world?
    John: yeah!  I mean, I think so.  I remember finally beating Lord English. He's like, the bigest douche in the universe.
    Dad: Son, normally I wouldn't approve of the use of "douche", but in this context I think it's entirely apropriate.
    John: Wait so how much do you know?
    Dad: More than you'd guess.  Come on, lets take a walk.
    

> Walk with your father. 
    
    
    Dad: I'm sorry about all the harlequins by the way.  Your friend Rose was right.  It really was a misunderstanding.
    John: ok. now you're starting to freak me out a little dad.  How did you know about THAT?
    Dad: hohoho my boy.  Don't you know that parents are unfallable and all knowing?
    

> Scrute your father. 
    
    
    Dad: The answer to that is pretty involved.  But it's not like you aren't used to contant world changing schenanegans.  And, at least for the while, we have nothing but time out here..
    John: Where are we again?  Right no good answer.
    Dad: Not really.  The best answer I have is "outside of canon", but I'm not sure if "outside of canon" is really much of a good descriptor if the author is dead.
    John: It feels like everyone has the answers except for me.  I thought maybe when I got older I'd have answers too but I'm just as confused as normal.
    Dad: And searching?
    John: Yeah.
    Dad: The apple doesn't fall far from the tree in most normal cases.
    John: So I'm dead and now we're going to have an ectobiological birds and the bees?
    Dad: Hey, could be worse son, we could be Strider/Lalondes!
    Dad: At least each Roxy was age-apropros. For both of us.
    

It's then that you remember the long years with Roxy Lalonde, and you're suddenly hit with a pinning for seeing your son little Harry Anderson again. Wait a second. Who are you? You can't keep your memories straight any more. Everythig has gone woozy like when Yoshi touches one of the fuzzy guys. You start to feel the world spin.
    
    
    Dad: Whoah there John, calm down. 
    John: What.. what's happening.
    Dad: As near as I can tell these are your other selves spread out across Paradox Space.  Other selves that need integrating.  Each time you integrate a self you'll find you remember more.  Most of us don't make it to Godhood let alone Ultimate Selfhood.
    John: Ultimate Selfhood? What? Dad? how do you even know all this stuff?  Shouldn't you be into like... shaving cream and stuff?
    Dad: Yeah.  I sure love shaving cream!
    

You let that just hang in the air a little while as you try and get your bearings. Your father just waits patiently as the world slows it's roll. It finally settles down but doesn't quite stop. After awhile he gently clears his throat.
    
    
    Dad: It won't stop.  The spinning I mean.  The Disk we're on is slowly spinning. They all are to one speed or another.  It really bends your noodle when you try and re-orient yourself.  I don't know if that's on purpose or what
    John: Dad, How do you know all this stuff?
    Dad: Well son, this is what happens when it turns out you're a living juju.
    John: ...
    Dad: So Dirk and Roxy are parents to Rose and Dave in universe A right?
    John: Yeah...
    Dad: and it's the other way around in Universe B, right?
    John: Yeah they're paradox clones.
    Dad: And the same is true for you and Jade, with your compliments are Jake and Jane.
    John: yeah, we're eachothers paradox grandparents.  So you're saying that because you're a generation inbetween...
    Dad: I am like a double paradox.
    


End file.
